


keep me safe

by irlkami



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Slow Dancing, bruh moment, i love theym, im so sorry, no one's gna read this but its for chase nyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlkami/pseuds/irlkami
Summary: “Oh dove, oh Syl, oh, my dear, I’m so sorry…” Asra’s voice was so unbearably soft, so tender it hurt. Sylvain’s head falls forward onto Asra’s shoulder, letting the latter’s arms pull him into his embrace. Asra smelled like home, a familiar scent that soothed his aching heart, that held him close and kept him safe.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana)
Kudos: 27





	keep me safe

Sylvain was sat the table where he shuffled his tarot deck, his chest moving slowly with his deep breaths, drawing out three cards from his deck. Laying them out in front of him, Sylvain flips over the topmost one. Death, reversed. Fear of change, holding on. Sylvain’s heart ached, staring at the reversed image of Death with its scythe. Sighing deeply, he sets the card aside and reaches for the right card, flipping it. The Tower. Upheaval, disaster. Growing worried, the red-haired man sets it aside, holding his breath as he flips the last card. The High Priestess, reversed. Lost inner voice. 

At that, Sylvain gathers his cards with trembling hands, setting them into their wooden box, pushing it aside. He barely noticed the tears welling in his eyes until they hit his clenched fists, rolling down his cheeks as a wretched sob tore through his throat, Sylvain’s head lowering to the table. His cries grew, spiraling into desperate wails and ragged breaths. His heartbeat was so hard it hurt, his entire body shaking that it shook the chair he was sitting on. A frantic mantra of “I’m sorry, I’ll do better, I’m sorry-” screamed in his head, his fingers pulling at his hair.

It felt like hours that Sylvain was in that state, hyperventilating, shaking, screaming out of fear, confusion, detached from his reality. All he felt was panic, his heartbeat thrashing in his ears. Sylvain heard a distant voice, a vice-like grip holding onto his shoulders, his hands, his wrists, and he screams, he curls further into himself. He’s so scared, so scared, so unbearably cold and-

**“SYLVAIN!”** Asra’s voice came through like a bullet shattering glass, clearing the film around Sylvain’s eyes and ears. The hands no longer were cold and shrewd, but warm, gentle, familiar, cradling his wet, tear-soaked face. Violet eyes meet gold, and it only makes Sylvain break down more, his bottom lip quivering. 

“Oh dove, oh Syl, oh, my dear, I’m so sorry…” Asra’s voice was so unbearably _soft,_ so tender it hurt. Sylvain’s head falls forward onto Asra’s shoulder, letting the latter’s arms pull him into his embrace. Asra smelled like home, a familiar scent that soothed his aching heart, that held him close and kept him safe.

It was quiet for a while, the magician slowly rocking Sylvain back and forth as Sylvain held onto him for dear life, a gentle hum vibrating in his throat. Asra breathed deep and slow, his chest rising in a comforting pattern. Soon, Sylvain’s breath matched his partner’s, his shaking ceasing. 

“Can we dance?” Sylvain recoiled at how weak and watery his voice sounded, his head resting on Asra’s chest, his breath rattling just slightly. Asra’s hands rubbed his back gently, nodding. “Of course.” Sylvain heard the smile in his voice, looking up at the taller magician as he pulled the both of them up, Asra wiping away the remaining tears. 

They shifted into a dancing position, Asra’s hand settling onto his waist, taking Sylvain’s into his free hand. It felt natural, like sliding puzzle pieces together. A perfect match.

They began to sway to a silent rhythm, their feet moving autonomously to the beat of night, Sylvain’s head moving forward to rest on Asra’s shoulder. At this point, they were just swaying back and forth in sync, spinning slowly in the middle of the magic shop. The silence let Sylvain’s thoughts run free once more, but they were quieter, less demanding. Most importantly, they weren’t sending him into a panic.

His mind wandered to the cards he pulled. Death, reversed. Fear of change, holding on. He was holding onto Asra for dear life, fearing that if he let him go, he would never come back. Sylvain closed his eyes, letting tears run back down his face, his cheek pressed against Asra’s throat. 

Sylvain didn’t want him to let go. 

“Asra?” The redhead speaks up quietly, earning a small hum in response, showing that the magician was listening. “Do you promise to always go where I can follow?” 

Lips were pressed to the crown of his hair, and gentle fingers coaxed his head up from his position. Asra looked down at him, kissing his beloved apprentice. 

“I promise.”


End file.
